


Tumblr Shorts

by DrewWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Gotham (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Birthday Fluff, Crack Treated Semi Seriously, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Happy Birthday Bruce Wayne, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrewWrites/pseuds/DrewWrites
Summary: Drabbles and shorts cross-posted from my tumblr that are too short to stand alone.tumblr: apieceofandrewforyou (main), asilentguardian (dc)
Relationships: Barry Allen/Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. with every cell in my body (olivarry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Crisis on Infinite Earths.

Oliver looks exhausted.

His skin is pale and his eyes are red, but he’s still standing up straight, still looking at all of them like the world hasn’t ended. Like Barry didn’t watch him die. Didn’t hold his bloody and broken body in his arms. 

“Do you trust me?”

Barry doesn’t even have to ask if he’s really Oliver Queen, because deep down he knows. He knows that the man in front of him, with his firm voice, and eyes that have seen everything, he knows it’s Oliver.

He also knows that his Oliver is fading. Slipping away before his eyes and he’s helpless to stop it.

“Are you Oliver Queen?”

He asks anyway, and he knows it’s his Oliver because his mouth ticks up in that little smile that only Barry can get out of him.

They’re so close to each other. Barry can barely hear the rest of the team firing questions at them because he’s too busy taking in every single detail of Oliver’s face and trying to reconcile it with the man he’s loved for 5 years.

His skin in so devoid of color that it’s nearly translucent. His body language doesn’t show it, but he’s exhausted. There’s sweat gathering on his forehead. His eyes are sunken in. His lips are dry and losing their color.

When Oliver’s hand cups his face, it doesn’t have any of the usual warmth. He doesn’t have his callouses, or the little scars that Barry has memorized and traced 100 different times in 100 different ways. It’s hard to believe that this is his Oliver, but he presses his hand to the one on his cheek anyway.

“Yes.”

Because his eyes are still the same blue that Barry has woken up to for so long. Because his smile is still the same.

“Then I trust you with every cell in my body.”


	2. he kissed him (stony)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a prompt given to me by talktotransformer.

He kissed him. Through the shame and the tears, Steve kissed him.

He said he would only hurt Steve, that he wouldn’t be a good boyfriend. 

The taste of Steve on his tongue as he gasped into the kiss was more than Tony could stand. It hurt to pull away, but he did. With a gentle but forceful hand on Steve’s chest, he pulled away.

“What’s wrong?”

Tony could hardly look Steve in the eyes. He knew what he was, what lurked inside of him. Steve did, too. If that part of him broke its way through the cracks and hurt Steve again, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“I can’t do this,” Tony said, barely above a whisper. He glanced down at Steve and immediately regretted it. The confusion and the hurt on his face stung like a knife, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact. Steve deserved that much. “You know I’ll only hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me Tony,” Steve argued. Tony shook his head and pushed himself off the couch and onto his feet.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Tony, please-”

Tony turned away from Steve and clenched his fists, trying not to scream in frustration.

“Don’t ask me to stay. Please. I- I can’t say no to you.” Tony waited a moment. And then another. He nodded his head and grabbed his keys.

“Tony,” Steve’s voice was soft and hoarse, but it still gave Tony pause, “please look at me.” Tony turned to see Steve’s face covered in tears and pain. Tony almost turned away, but the steely look in Steve’s eyes made him stay put.

“I love you.”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his fists harder. His ears were ringing, his head filled with static. For a horrible moment, he thought that the darkness was seeping through again.

“You don’t mean that.” Tony’s voice came out less sharp than he intended. Less biting. More scared.

“I do mean it. I love you with everything I have. In every way. You don’t have to say it back, I already know.”

Tony gave a curt nod and turned away before opening his eyes.

And with that, Tony left.


	3. now we're standing here with blood on our hands (batface)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was Gotham that loved Harvey Dent.”
> 
> That’s what Batman tells Jim Gordon.
> 
> But in the end, it was Bruce Wayne who loved Harvey Dent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I have no clue where the fuck this came from but my brain thought up a couple lines and then I just started writing. I don't even ship Harvey and Bruce. I kinda like the idea of them having something brief before Harvey goes all, you know, murdery, but I've never even read fic of them.  
> My brain just spit this out I guess.
> 
> You can pretend this is set in your favorite version of canon but I guess mine is based off of The Long Halloween.
> 
> The title is from Near by Bilmuri

“You loved him, didn’t you?” Commissioner Gordon says the night after the trial. 

Two-Face is in Arkham, and Gotham is quiet. Even it’s nocturnal inhabitants seem to be in shock.

Bruce spares a moment to wonder when Jim Gordon became so adept at reading Batman. He supposes it doesn’t matter, and finds that he’s not the slightest bit alarmed.

He wants to tell him that it was Gotham, not him, that loved Harvey Dent.

But Gotham isn’t naïve. Gotham doesn’t love it’s politicians. Harvey Dent was a man that, for a little while, made it easier to hope for a brighter future. Gotham’s citizens didn’t love Harvey Dent, they loved the future that he represented. The calm to Batman’s storm. The light to the dark.

Batman and Jim Gordon saw a White Knight in Harvey Dent. An ally they could use to restore justice.

It was Bruce that recognized the brand of stubborn in Harvey Dent’s eyes. It was a bright and burning drive that the public saw as passion, but Jim Gordon and Batman saw as pure will and determination. It was a brilliant light that they thought was guiding them forward, but the longer it burned the more it blinded them.

It was Bruce that shared Harvey’s love for Gotham.

Bruce saw Harvey’s love of Gotham City turn to a broken heart as he learned how the corruption went from penthouses to brick homes. How some criminals didn’t want to be saved. How some people had lost hope in Gotham entirely.

But Bruce’s love was fearless, unflinching in front of all that Gotham wrought.

Harvey Dent crumbled under Gotham’s true face.

And their love for each other crumbled with it.

Bruce saw Harvey’s light turn to fire, and he was the first to be burned.

“It was Gotham that loved Harvey Dent.”

That’s what Batman tells Jim Gordon.

But in the end, it was Bruce Wayne who loved Harvey Dent.


	4. your heart in my soul (batlantern)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a fluffy batlantern mini fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again using Bilmuri lyrics as a title

Despite the way he tries to hide it, despite the way he carefully crafts his sentences to the contrary, Hal knows that Bruce cares deeply. 

It’s the way he lingers in the med bay after every mission until he’s sure that everyone is okay, it’s the way he pushes himself to his limit in the field to protect his teammates. It’s the way he’s always listening, the way he remembers small things about his loved ones. It’s the way he makes breakfast for his family every Sunday, the way his full attention turns to his kids at a moment’s notice.

It’s the way he accommodates Hal’s presence in his life almost effortlessly. The way he lets Hal fill the space between them with noise, even though he prefers the calm silence. It’s the way he presents the Batcave’s access codes to Hal, the way he keeps an extra chair at the dinner table for him. It’s the way that Hal seems to have become a permanent part of his personal space.

Hal knows that Bruce loves him, knows that he shows it differently.

It makes the moment that Bruce says it all the more wonderful. The words wrap around him the way that the moonlight is wrapped around Bruce’s bare skin. The way that the sheets are tangled in their legs. The way their bodies are intertwined.

Hal never wants to stop hearing those words ring in his ears, never wants to stop repeating them in the quiet night.

“I love you, too.”


	5. What Jim Gordon Knows (gen)

Jim Gordon knows he’s getting old.

He’s married, he has a kid. His own house.

His knees hurt him in the morning and at night. His back protests every time he puts on his badge. The years he’s spent in this city are weighing on his body.

But he’s still a damn good detective. Just because Lee has to help him find his keys every morning, doesn’t mean he can’t put two and two together when it comes to the Batman.

Gotham changes you. Sometimes into the person you need, sometimes into the person it needs. No matter how dark that person is. Jim has seen it happen to countless people, himself included.

But if there was one person who Jim knew that could never change, that was quite literally born to be the one to _change Gotham_ , it’s Bruce Wayne.

He still remembers the little kid in the alleyway, scared out of his mind. He remembers the fire and determination that pushed him to find his parent’s killer, that pushed him beyond his own vengeance and into Gotham. Before he knew it that kid was a young man, staring Gotham in the face and deciding to protect it. To do everything he could to prevent more little kids from being scared in alleyways, alone and lost.

After a day or two of brief interactions with Batman, and struggling to find a time that Bruce Wayne was free, he knew. He also knew that he couldn’t confront Bruce about it. That it would make it harder to play the role of strict police commissioner who didn’t bend the rules.

So Jim didn’t say anything. Not even to Lee (but she probably already knew. Because she’s Lee).

Every time Commissioner Gordon stands on the rooftop with Batman, Jim considers letting him know. Maybe with a nod, or a nudge, or a careful comment. But he never does. Because he’s a father, and he’s known Bruce for a long time. Knows that it needs to be Bruce’s choice as to who knows. He knows that he has help, and that he’ll be okay.

He’s incredibly proud of the man Bruce has become. Likes to think he had at least some part in it. And really, how could he _not_ know that the vigilante that stands on the GCPD’s roof every night is that same little boy? He has the same solem silence, the same grave stare. But he has the same light, too. The same fire and hope.

All that, and one time Superman accidentally called Batman “Bruce” in the middle of an argument. Jim pretended not to hear it.

So yeah. Jim Gordon knows who Batman is.


	6. i love the way you let me breathe instead (batlantern)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of batlantern smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written anything even resembling smut. Please go easy on me I don't know what I'm doing

It wasn’t like Bruce had never been called beautiful. Bruce Wayne has been called beautiful by the press and other socialites and admirers and so on. Batman has even been called beautiful by a few people.

But it’s the way _Hal_ says it.

They’re in bed, bodies intertwined. Hal is inside of him, one hand gripping Bruce’s shoulder and the other around his cock.

“God, you’re so _beautiful_ ,” Hal says in a breath. It passes through his lips as easy as every other noise he’s made while fucking Bruce.

He says it as if he‘s looking up and seeing a galaxy, despite being the one who’s looking down at Bruce. Says it like he’s picked his way through everything Bruce is, carefully peeled him apart and is holding his soul in his hand rather than his dick.

Bruce has never heard it like this before. Like his whole being is worthy of being worshipped. Like a great, wonderful truth. 

Hal’s bright blue eyes are looking at him like they can see right into his mind, and Bruce is fooling himself if he ever thought he could hide himself from Hal.

Bruce thinks he could come just from Hal Jordan looking at him and calling him beautiful. 

He buries his head in Hal’s shoulder and shudders closer to the edge. Hal’s hand moves up his neck to the back of his head, buries itself in his hair as Hal rolls his hips into Bruce, slides his other hand up and down Bruce’s cock.

Bruce strengthens his grip around Hal’s torso as he spills onto their chests, moans as Hal’s rhythm falters and his come fills Bruce.

Bruce feels raw and utterly human as they float back down to earth together. He wishes he could press himself closer to Hal, surround himself in his smell of raspberry sun and motor oil leather.

Hal’s head drops down to the space next to Bruce’s, his nose burrows into his hair. The hand holding Bruce’s cock falls to his hip.

Bruce hooks his chin over Hal’s shoulder and watches his pale hands move across Hal’s perfect tan.

They breathe in peaceful quiet together, their hearts marching in tandem.

Eventually they’ll rise from their tangled mess of sheets and limbs and sweat, and they’ll gently wipe each other clean. They’ll smile as they say their goodnights and I-love-yous.

For now Bruce revels in the fact that he has the warm light that is Hal Jordan safe in his arms.


	7. just before the dawn (gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is how the batman dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't spend a whole lot of time fine-tuning this, so it's not the same quality as some of my other stuff, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Bruce lives until age 65.

It’s fear that does him in. The fear of a man with a gun, who gets lucky with a shot to the lungs. Lungs that are weak and tired from the previous day's invasion. Batman wasn’t even supposed to be on patrol.

The med-bay keeps him alive long enough to see his children one last time. Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, Steph, Duke. 

He’s surrounded by his family when he dies.

Bruce Wayne’s funeral is held on a Thursday. For once, it’s not raining in Gotham. In fact, the air is quite still.

It’s not a quiet affair by any means. Clark had envisioned it being quiet, and yet.

The grounds of Wayne Manor are practically overflowing with people, and with noise. There are families of families here. There are people that have known Bruce Wayne once in passing, and there are people who had the privilege of knowing Bruce Wayne wholly and completely. There are people who never officially knew Bruce Wayne, but instead knew Batman as a friend or fellow warrior.

Clark spares a moment to smile at the sheer amount of lives that inhabit this space. He knows that Bruce would lecture them all on security and the fact that having the League here in their civilian identities is a risk. He also knows that not a single one of them give a damn.

Officially, Bruce Wayne died in the invasion. One of many casualties.

That’s the story they give as his body is lowered into his grave, right between Alfred and his mother.

Martha Kent is holding onto Clark’s right arm, and her grip tightens as Dick Grayson repeats the story for what feels like the hundredth time. Clark can see Diana’s gaze drop down, Hal’s jaw clench, can hear Bruce’s family falter.

They all desperately want to tell the real story. They want the world to know that Bruce Wayne was a hero. Want to shout at the world until they’re all hoarse that it was _Bruce Wayne_ under that cowl.

But they can’t. Not now, at least.

The world needs Batman. In time, Damian Wayne will pick up that suit. He’ll become Gotham’s protector, its guardian angel. After him, they’ll be another hero that picks up the mantle. And again after them. And maybe someday the world will know who Batman was. Who Batman is.

But for now, Bruce Wayne’s story is known to a select group of people.

And as the noise of Bruce Wayne’s funeral washes away, and as people fade from the manor, that group remains. It’s much bigger than it was even a decade ago.

Clark looks around. The founding members of the Justice League, the new members of the Justice League, heroes from other galaxies, loyal friends. Bruce’s children and his grandchildren.

Batman’s funeral is held the moment Bruce Wayne’s ends, and it’s a much smaller event, but It is just as loud. As League members recount missions and Bruce’s children tell soft stories, Clark feels like it’s even louder. 

Clark recalls a moment, years ago, in the manor.

It was just the two of them in the sitting room. They had just finished a case, and Clark had convinced him to sit down and eat dinner with him for once.

“You know, I’ve never liked the quiet,” Bruce said. Clark raised an eyebrow at him because Batman was the embodiment of quiet. His very being was surrounded by shadows and silence. Bruce rolled his eyes at him.

“I mean the quiet of the manor. When it was just me and Alfred, it was too empty. It felt like breathing too loud would cause an echo.”

“And now?”

“Now I can barely get a moment to myself,” he said. But he had been smiling. Like the overwhelming noise of his life was the best thing he could have ever hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've thought a lot about how batman would die. My first thought was doing something self-sacrificing in a near-world-ending event, but it seems like too much? Like it makes sense for Batman to die like that, but in my mind it's more impactful if it's smaller than that. Anyway. This was a small snippet of something longer that I abandoned for now. So maybe you'll see this again someday, who knows.


	8. hal jordan is a horny idiot (batlantern)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal sees Bruce in glasses for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. dilf Bruce Wayne lives in my brain 24/7 at the moment. so here this is. wrote it in 20 minutes lemme know if you catch a typo or smth.

Winters in Gotham are cold, and, contrary to popular belief, Bruce does in fact feel it. He wears a thermal suit under the bat costume, and his wardrobe involves a lot more sweaters, turtle necks, and jackets.

He’s in the cave one night, dressed in a black turtle neck and sweats, running comms on patrol. His kids insisted on him taking a few days off after he mentioned his knee was giving him trouble. It took a lot of bribing and convincing and threats from Alfred, but eventually he gave in. So here he was, reading glasses and all, much to his embarrassment.

He listens as Tim and Damian bicker over the comms about who’s turn it was to pick the movie tonight and allows himself a small smile. They were almost done with patrol, and he was that much closer to climbing in a warm bed. He pulls the sleeves of his turtle neck a little further down over his hands. He really isn’t a fan of the cold.

He hears the door at the top of the stairs open, and footsteps begin to descend. He assumes it’s Alfred until he hears a mumbled curse and a series of _thunks_ and _bangs_. He’s immediately reminded of the time that Jason fell down the stairs when he was younger, and he’s out of his chair and to the steps in record time.

On the floor is his boyfriend. His very dazed boyfriend. Who is definitely here a day early.

“Hal, are you alright?” He asks as he kneels down, now very concerned. A thousand possibilities go through his head, from poison to mind control to horrible injuries. He begins scanning Hal’s body for blood, noticing that he’s not in his uniform. Maybe it’s a fever.

“Hot,” Hal says. Bruce raises his eyebrows. Almost definitely a fever.

“Are you ill? I told you that you should dress warmer in the winter,” Bruce says as he helps Hal sit up.

“No. You. Turtle neck. Very hot,” he says. Bruce cocks his head in confusion, scanning Hal for signs of a concussion or something similar. Hal’s eyes are scanning his face, his pupils dilated and his lips parted. Oh. _Oh._ His boyfriend is a horny idiot.

“You are a horny idiot,” Bruce says. Hal doesn’t even respond to the jab, just grabs the front of Bruce’s shirt and pulls him into a very clumsy and awkward kiss. Bruce pulls back.

“Are you sure you’re not concussed?” He asks. Hal rolls his eyes and pulls Bruce onto his lap. Bruce will deny the fact that Hal still makes his face feel hot until the day that he dies.

“Please just shut up and kiss me,” Hal says, a smirk forming on his face at the sight of Bruce blushing. Bruce snorts and leans forward, lips meeting Hal’s in much more graceful kiss. He reaches up to remove his glasses, but Hal’s hand stops his.

“Really?” Bruce asks, suddenly diffident. He’s never enjoyed the fact that he has to wear reading glasses. 

Hal swallows and nods. It seems his opinion is different, if the way he leans back and pulls Bruce on top of him is anything to go by.

Nothing is more distracting than Hal Jordan’s mouth. That’s the excuse Bruce uses to justify the fact that he doesn’t hear Tim’s bike return.

“Father. What are you doing,” comes Damian’s voice. Bruce immediately straightens up.

“Nothing. Hal fell. I am making sure he is okay,” He says while straightening his glasses and running a hand through his hair. Damian sends him an unimpressed look, one that really shouldn’t work on a 10 year old. Bruce winces internally.

Tim comes around the corner and sighs loudly, grabbing Damian’s arm and turning towards the locker room.

“You’re paying for our therapy,” Tim shouts over his shoulder. Bruce waits until they’ve closed the locker room door to look back at Hal. He glares at the shit-eating grin on his face.

“This is your fault.”

Hal scoffs and shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. You’re the one who decided to dress like that today and make me fall down the stairs. Also, glaring at me right now is not having the affect that you think it’s having.”

“I cannot believe you, you are insatiable,” Bruce says. Hal gets that look on his face that says he’s about to retort with something vulgar, and Bruce immediately regrets waking up today.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last-”

_“Shut. Up,”_ Bruce growls. He stands up, pulling Hal up with him. Hal gives a startled yelp and glares at Bruce.

“What the-”

“Upstairs. Now,” Bruce says. He turns and begins marching up the stairs, dragging a very amused Hal behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr saw it first! follow me @ asilentguardian


	9. you found home right in my soul (batlantern)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some batlantern fluff for bruce's birthday :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from yet another song by bilmuri. It's mytop10mostbrootalbreakdownsof2047. It slaps.

Hal found them in the living room. He leaned against the doorway and smiled at the scene.

Bruce, asleep in his favorite recliner, reading glasses askew on his face. Even in his sleep, his arm was firmly in place, holding baby Martha to his chest. She too was asleep, tiny hands grasping at Bruce’s sweater.

Hal had to suppress a laugh of pure joy at the sight. His husband looked like such a grandfather in that moment.

He stood there for a long time, simply watching them breathe.

Eventually Dick joined him in the doorway, giving a soft chuckle at the sight.

“So that’s where they ended up,” he whispered. Hal glanced over at him and smiled.

“You know that your father is already wrapped around her finger right? That child is going to be spoiled by her grandfather,” he said.

“You mean both of her grandfathers?” Dick said. His voice was serious, but he was smiling. Hal struggled not to get choked up. Almost two decades in and it still made him emotional when the kids referred to him as family.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’m old,” Hal said. Dick rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but a blast of wind cut him off. The fiery red hair of Dick’s husband sagged in relief at the sight of Martha safely asleep in Bruce’s arms.

“There she is, Jesus,” Wally said, out of breath from panicking or searching the entire city, Hal couldn’t tell. They were both new parents, but Dick had grown up around younger siblings. Wally was considerably more nervous. Hal smiled, reminded of his own nerves with Bruce’s children when they first got together. Dick and Wally would be just fine.

“There better not be scorch marks on my carpet,” Bruce mumbled from the recliner, eyes still closed. Hal rolled his eyes. For awhile Bruce’s rule had been “no speed force in the manor,” but trying to tell speedsters not to use the speed force was like telling people not to breathe, so it had turned into “for the love of god please don’t ruin the carpet or Alfred’s ghost will haunt you.”

“Yeah yeah we know dad. Now give me my daughter back, you’ve been hogging her all day.” Dick walked up to the recliner and held his hands out. Bruce glared at him, but it didn’t have much of an effect on Dick anymore. The sleep rumpled hair and old-man sweater didn’t help, either. He reluctantly handed his granddaughter back to her father, careful not to wake her.

“You have to teach me how to do that, it takes us hours to get her to sleep,” Wally said, voice low as Dick walked back to him, Martha in his arms.

“The secret is about a dozen children,” Hal joked, chuckling as Wally’s face turned a little pale.

“Go on you two, Jason is starting on dinner and I’m sure he could use some extra hands,” Hal said. Dick shot him a knowing look, seeing right through Hal’s flimsy excuse to be alone with Bruce, but dragged Wally along behind him anyways.

Hal turned back to Bruce, who was watching him with a smile.

“Hey you,” Hal said, making his way to the recliner.

“Hi,” Bruce murmured back as Hal sat on the arm of the chair. He ran a hand through Bruce’s hair and absentmindedly adjusted his reading glasses. His husband leaned into the motion, practically purring at the attention.

“Did you not get enough sleep last night?” Hal asked. Bruce raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know exactly how much sleep I did not get.”

“Okay, I walked right into that one. You still have to be awake for dinner though,” Hal said, grinning at the pout that was now on his husband’s face.

“Dinner’s not for at least another half hour. Come here,” Bruce grumbled. He tugged Hal onto the recliner, forcing him to lay across his body. Hal huffed and looked up at Bruce, who captured his lips in a soft kiss. Hal pulled back.

“We are not making out in the living room,” Hal stated. Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Of course not, we’re napping.”

Hal sighed and resigned himself to being his grumpy husband’s blanket until someone came to drag them to the dinner table. Not that it was much of a hardship. Laying on top of Bruce would always be one of Hal’s favorite past times, but their family was here, including their first grandchild. And Hal missed their children.

“Baby, I love you so much, but our children are in our house unattended right now. Who knows what kind of chaos they could get up to?”

Bruce cracked one eye open and looked at Hal.

“They’re all adults now, you know,” Bruce said, “and my very warm husband is right here. It’s my birthday, I think I get to nap for a bit with my husband.” With that, Bruce leaned back further and wrapped his arms firmly around Hal.

Hal sighed again, knowing that nothing short of the world ending would get Bruce to move. Just a couple of years ago it would’ve been extremely difficult to get Bruce to willingly nap at any time of day.

“Happy Birthday, you giant toddler,” Hal muttered. Bruce smiled and rubbed a hand across Hal’s back. Maybe napping wasn’t such a bad idea, might even be worth all the old man jokes from Tim and Jason. As long as Bruce continued to look that happy and relaxed, anything would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the ending seems rushed that's cause it is lol. Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
